Though the sick beast infect us, we are fraught Forever with indissoluble Truth, Wherein redress reveals itself divine, Transitional, transcendent. Grief and loss, Disease and desolation, are the dreams Of wasted excellence; and every dream Has in it something of an ageless fact That flouts deformity and laughs at years. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOCTOR OF BILLIARDS by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON THE BARMAID AND THE ALEXANDRITE by KAREN SWENSON THE OLD SANTA FE TRAIL by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 55 by ALFRED TENNYSON FANCIES AT NAVESINK: 6 by WALT WHITMAN SONG OF THE BROAD-AXE by WALT WHITMAN |